


Rise

by DefiFox



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Comfort, Crying, Fluff, Happy, M/M, Miky and Perkz are parents, More tags to be added, No Beta but honestly never beta so it's fine, No Rekkclown >:(, Rejection, Sad, Sad Caps, Silly Boys, Soft Jankos, Soft Rekkles, Sweet, and Caps is their heartbroken child, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26970235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefiFox/pseuds/DefiFox
Summary: Teams rise, teams fall. After each victory, things ensue for our European boys.1. Caps: Alone2. Jankos and Rekkles: Many More3. Perkz and Miky, Caps: They Stay
Relationships: Mads "Broxah" Brock-Pedersen/Rasmus "Caps" Winther, Marcin "Jankos" Jankowski/Martin "Rekkles" Larson, Mihael "Mikyx" Mehle/Luka "PerkZ" Perković
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Last year I had a small series called 'Making It' where I'd post each time a European team progressed through Worlds. This year, this will be the series :D  
> And I'm already half a week late with the first chapter, whoops

Movie night with the boys isn’t half as fun when guilt is eating away at you, that much Rasmus has figured out by now. The day already wasn’t exactly great in terms of gameplay from all of them, especially later on, but seeing Mads- no, Broxah looking so defeated, so utterly disappointed in himself and this Worlds felt like a brick being shoved down his throat forcefully. Seeing him lose his perfectly kind smile and not being able to help get it back on his face hurts, more than Rasmus could have predicted. 

It's been almost two years now, since he last shared a hotel room with Broxah, since he last played games as his midlaner. Logic dictates that Rasmus should be over it by now, like he’s already over Bwipo, and Rekkles, and Hyli. Like he’s already nearly forgotten what he looked like in orange and black. 

But Broxah has wandered through his mind like an insistent apparition for nearly two years now and with him so, so many feelings. Feelings that haven’t faded or tarnished or lost their colors over the years, but have gotten more and more insistent up until the moment he saw Broxah’s face after their game. His friendly yet distant smile. Rasmus can’t get the man out of his mind and now it feels like his heart is beating for him, too.

It’s like his team knows something’s up with him – let’s be honest, they probably do: he’s terrible at hiding his emotions – because they put on his favorite movie and take out lots of blankets for his heat-loving self. He wants to thank them sincerely, he really does, but it’s like the words just won’t come out. Besides, his mind keeps drifting to a different place, a different person.

How is Broxah doing now? Is he destroyed, like he was shortly after their loss in 2019’s Worlds Finals to iG? Is he smiling through his own pain for his teammates? Or is he a dull and motionless shell of himself, just like when Rasmus left for G2?

Rasmus has heard stories about Broxah in the first few weeks after his departure. Sure, Rekkles was sad and frustrated to lose him, but Broxah wasn’t himself for weeks, according to Bwipo. That guy was the only one on the team still prepared to talk to him when all the others felt he’d betrayed them somehow; Bwipo had kept his worried heart beating with his creepily specific updates on Broxah and Rekkles’ wellbeing. 

It’s been a long time since he’s last spoken to Broxah, Rasmus reckons; he hasn’t heard much of the guy since he moved to NA. The only rumors that cross the sea come from Zven, who isn’t even in the same team as Broxah. No, they haven’t seen much of each other at all.

So why does his mind continue to drift back to Broxah?

“Ras. Rasmus, you good? You look pale”, Mihael comments. 

Rasmus looks up to see four pairs of eyes on him, all filled with some kind of worry. He wraps his orange fuzzy blanket closer around him, as if that will someone keep away their emotions and desire to care for him. He’s not a baby, for Christ sake.

“I’m fine.”

He’s not even sure why he says it- it’s obvious they don’t believe him. 

“You should go to him”, Luka says quietly. It’s a suggestion, not an order, as his ridiculously kind demeanor makes more than clear. Rasmus isn’t sure he’s ever seen Luka been this soft, even with Mihael. 

No one objects. They’re all looking at him encouragingly, like this is just a part of some well-coordinated plan that’s been worked out days ago. Rasmus swallows hard, trying his hardest to avoid meeting their gazes. He’s pretty sure there’s no use in objecting at this point. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

And so he finds himself nervously hurrying his way through empty hallways, all somewhat identical. He knows where Broxah’s room is after Marcin texted around. Even though he has to cross half the hotel and go up three stairs – waiting for the lift just isn’t an option – he doesn’t feel nearly ready when he reaches the room number that’s written on the crumpled note in his hand.

For some reason pacing in front of the door for several minutes doesn’t solve all his problems. Swallowing back his doubts, Rasmus firmly knocks on the door one, two, three times. Wait, is three to many? What if Broxah thinks he’s some kind of crazy fangirl, or just someone who forget their room number and guessed the wrong door? How- 

“Caps?”

Rasmus’ reality shatters into a million pieces. That voice- god, that voice. How he’s missed hearing it pointed at him, for better or for worse. Unshambling his mind takes him long enough for Broxah to start looking at him funny.

“Hi uh.. hey, Broxah. Ca- Can I come in?” Rasmus stammers. He’s starting to regret this already, but his heart starts tugging whenever he thinks of turning and running. It’s too late now. He might as well just see this through. 

He only notices Broxah’s pajama’s when the latter blinks wearily, considering his options before heaving a sigh and opening the door farther. With a nod of gratitude he enters his ex-jungler’s pristine hotel room. 

Broxah makes no moves to offer him a seat or something to drink, or anything else to make him feel more welcome. When he talks he sounds utterly exhausted. “What do you want, Caps?”

_Yeah, Rasmus, what do you want? Why the hell did you come here?_  
Coming up with an answer is as impossible as telling two identical twins apart by voice alone. Rasmus does try, so very hard. He doesn’t want to disappoint Broxah, not again, especially not now. 

“I was worried about you. After the games today I couldn’t stop thinking about you and then you looked so sad and I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay.” _I miss you._

Broxah sighs again. “Ca- Rasmus, it’s late. Why aren’t you just with your team? We’re not teammates anymore, haven’t been for quite a while,” he says with a sour chuckle, “and that means you don’t have that kind of responsibility for me.”

Rasmus’ heart sinks to the bottom of his shoes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here”, he manages, just barely a whisper. When he goes to reach for the door with a trembling hand, his arm is intercepted.

“Wait.”

He can’t look him in the eyes so Rasmus looks for other things to fix his gaze on to keep himself from tearing up. 

“Are you really that concerned for me, after all this time? Rasmus, look at me.”

Rasmus can’t find his voice, thoughts blurring with his vision. Right in front of him Mads inhales sharply. “God, Rasmus, what is going on with you? Y- you never send me anything for over a year, no messages except for one ‘happy birthday’.” He pauses. “Why come here now?”

“I-” The words die in his mouth.

“What is it, Rasmus? You’ve never stopped yourself from talking before, say what you want to say.” Mads is wringing his hands together as he speaks, a sign Rasmus has always been taught to recognize as nervousness. 

Mads is nervous. How, no, why? He otherwise seems so perfectly in control, of his emotions, this situation, of his life. Mads is the anchor. Always has been. He can’t just.. not be. That’s too much, and maybe that’s the thing that pushes Rasmus over the edge. 

He exhales. “I still love you.”

Something in Mads’ eyes hardens and Rasmus knows he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong about this situation. He searches desperately for love, softness, anything that might give air to his wheezing lungs. He is met with a set jaw and steel eyes, looking over his shoulder. “Mads, no wait, I-”

“You should go.” 

Rasmus swallows a sob as his heart is broken into a million shards that start cutting through his throat, slaughtering all attempts at speech. The only thing that keeps him from collapsing is the hand on his shoulder, firmly guiding him out. Then the door slams in his face. He’s alone. 

_Go._

His eyes burn with tears and from the bright lights that beat down on him in the hallway. The walls are empty where there aren’t doors, grey and dark blue and rough against his hand. His feet are swallowed in the carpet’s hungry embrace just like his head is getting consumed by a pounding headache. Rasmus stumbles on, finding his way back to his room by instinct alone.

Marcin is already there, scrolling on his phone on his bed. He glances up shortly when Rasmus opens the door and jumps up as if he just got stung by a wasp. 

Within moments he’s across the room, previous occupations completely forgotten. Rasmus is enveloped in a familiar warmth as the jungler presses him tightly to his chest. It’s then that he loses control over himself and starts sobbing, tiredly clutching the fabric of Marcin’s shirt in his fist.

Marcin’s one hand rubs circles on his back, the other one gently grasping his neck in the same way Luka always does. It’s always served to calm others down, but Rasmus is beyond consolation. 

To Marcin’s credit, he handles the situation as well as one can handle one of their best friends crying over a broken heart. There’s no attempts at joking, no curse words or death promises to Broxah, no idle words that wouldn’t make sense, no questions about what happened. They both know Rasmus wouldn’t answer them anyway.

Yes, Marcin does everything he can, but nothing numbs the pain enough for Rasmus. So when he’s all settled in his bed, with a cup of still steaming hot tea on his nightstand and Marcin’s travel plushie tucked against his side and he’s sure the latter is fast asleep he allows the ocean of grief to wash over him, surrounded by showings of gentle love yet so utterly alone.

Maybe that’s just the way he was made to be.

Alone.


	2. Many More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After not being able to see each other in weeks because of their stressfull schedules, Rekkles and Jankos finally get their night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day, whoo!  
> Tread carefully, lots of senseless fluff ahead

Every day during Worlds is usually exciting enough to entertain Marcin and annoy his team to no ends, but today there’s two reasons his heart is pounding in his chest and he keeps drumming his fingers on the table in anticipation. After the scrims and after Fnatic’s games today, he’ll finally have some one on one time with Rekkles again. For Rasmus’ sake he tries to contain the bubbly feelings that keep arising in him. The young Dane probably doesn’t want a reminder of the sweeter side of love after his last night and Luka has already kicked him twice in the shins to remind him of that. 

Marcin does manage to keep his excitement to himself, no thanks to Rekkles who keeps smiling at him from across the dining hall. Even when he’s just woken up the Swede already looks gorgeous. His hair is still nice and messy, so beautiful in the sun now that it’s grown a bit longer again. Tattoos peek out from under his sleeves as he scoops a royal amount of eggs on his plate and Marcin doesn’t even have to look at them to know how they look. He has every inch of that perfect skin memorized. No make-up needed on that face, if you ask him.

The hours fly by as Marcin bides his time, watching games in between soloQ games and interviews on his phone while scrimming. His team – and Graaooabz – can’t appreciate it. 

Well, then it’s probably a good thing he’s not eating with them, isn’t it? Initially he only planned to spend the later hours of the evening and night with Martin, but he just can’t say no to that suggestive smile. No one has ever managed to make ‘room service’ sound as alluring as he does. 

It’s probably the biggest downer in their relationship- they can’t really be seen together. Both for the integrity of their professional relationship and for that of their respective orgs, it’s better if they try to avoid that kind of publicity. Martin understands it, Marcin accepts it, and it’s all fine. The best moments happen when it’s just the two of them, anyway.

With all the patience he can muster Marcin waits until his last block of scrims for the day has ended to check his messages. His heart skips a beat when he sees the notification bubble on his lock screen.

> Marti <3:  
_I’m waiting for you :,D_

> Marti <3 has sent you a picture.

With a smile so wide it almost hurts Marcin opens the picture to see delicious-looking noodle soup, two fancy-looking glasses and a bottle of wine on a large platter standing on the coffee table in Martin’s room. He shortly wonders where Martin keeps getting all the good stuff from, but shrugs it off momentarily. His boyfriend is full of surprises.

-

Martin fidgets impatiently on the couch as he waits for Marcin to get to his door. It’s been way too long since they’ve gotten an evening together, even longer since they had a night. Playoffs, quarantine and Worlds haven’t left much time for them to just be together, so they agreed to make the most of the one night they both do have off.

Playing today with Marcin on the back of his mind constantly felt like heaven disguised in hell. It was a lot harder to stay focused on the game, but the thought of his boyfriend watching everything made Martin pour his heart and soul into today, which resulted in a nearly perfect day. Sure, there’s still some things to improve on, but no one’s perfect, least of all him. It’s been a good Worlds, though, and a good year in general despite the pandemic. After some years of having lost a sense of belonging and of identity, Martin feels like it’s finally coming back to him.

Of course with major thanks to a certain Polish jungler, whom he stumbled across in a bar in Berlin a few months ago. Martin had been there mostly for fun, Marcin hadn’t. They started talking, discovering on the way they had a lot more in common than previously assumed. One thing led to another and banter over discord, duoQ and evening calls quickly turned into shared breakfast at a local bakery, evening strolls and silly gifts being sent back and forth. Which then led to their first kiss, on the couch in Martin’s apartment just before the start of Summer Playoffs. 

Though Martin was, and still is skeptical over the practicalities of their relationship and how they want to maintain it, he’s never found himself longing for someone more than he longs for Marcin at the end of every long day. Something about his energetic demeanor and the unique, bubbly kindness it carries has him enchanted and waiting for the next time he can feel it, be showered in that attention. 

A soft click has him bolting up from the couch, charged with a buzzing electricity. There is Marcin, still in his G2 hoodie – well, nobody’s perfect –, hair disheveled and obviously mostly ignored throughout the day, but so perfect to ruffle. Martin has to physically stop himself from pouncing on his boyfriend like an exciting puppy, instead enveloping him in a tight embrace. 

It always feels so good with Marcin. A hand around his waist and one between his shoulder blades, lightly grasping at the fabric of his black shirt as he answers just as warmly, slinging his hands tightly around Marcin’s chest. 

Marcin hums happily in the crook of Martin’s neck. He’s just a little bit taller, but they only found that out when they were in the bathroom one night, giggling at each other in the mirror. Before that they hadn’t even noticed. 

“That’s a very warm welcome”, Marcin remarks with a grin when they eventually break their hug.

Martin giggles. “Well, yeah. I missed you.” He sets upon opening up the bottle of wine, carefully maneuvering his way around Marcin, who’s just about to sit down on the little couch. Pouring it in glasses goes smoothly, which is more than he hoped for when his hands can’t stop trembling with almost childlike excitement. The last time before Marcin when he felt like this must’ve been at the start of his career, in those blessed early days when every win felt like a title on its own.

“I mean, yeah, of course you did! Imagine having to live without me for- how long?” Marcin looks at him questioningly.

“More than three weeks”, Martin supplies, feeling like he’s melting into a puddle of love.

“-More than three weeks! Pfff, I could never. That’s like, super long without this pretty voice to keep you company”, he says cheerfully.

Martin giggles. How did he ever manage to get this lucky? “Oh, and I missed you a lot. But you’re here now right? And we have one night to make up for three weeks.” He hands Marcin a glass and plops down on the couch. A hand around his waist tugs him closer to his boyfriend, and Martin smiles. 

“Oh, that’s only like, twenty nights in one night. Easy peasy”, Marcin grins. His grey eyes meet Martin’s and they share a quick kiss, tasting wine on each other’s lips. 

“We already started the evening right,” Martin smiles, “so here’s to an amazing night as well.”

“And many more”, Marcin adds hopefully.

They clink their glasses together and miraculously no wine is spilled. Within moments their first glasses are empty, quickly followed by the food spread out on the table. Turns out, both of them are pretty hungry after what Martin considers to be a long, fulfilling day. 

After dinner they put on a movie. Minutes quickly turn to hours between their warm embraces, sweet giggles and heated kisses, and then evening turns to night and they take their business to Martin’s bed, where they share a night together that seems so endlessly perfect yet ends way too quickly. Still, even with the prospect of a long day of scrims and being apart from Marcin again, the first hazy minutes of the morning are as amazing as the night it succeeds. 

Martin smiles as he gently brushes some hair out of Marcin’s face. The latter is still fast asleep, snoring softly.

_And here’s to many more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :D


	3. They Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking refuge from his own mind, Rasmus finds himself knocking on Miky and Luka's door. There, he gets a much needed reminder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this and posted it immediately, so please tell me if there's any mistakes in here!

The room is buzzing with small noises when Rasmus knocks. Even though he’s gotten better at asking for help and genuinely accepting it, he still finds his heart thumping loudly against his ribcage. For some reason he always feels like he’s intruding and unwelcome when he visits unwarranted like this, especially now, in a hotel far, far away from home. 

He hears people stirring, moving around and muffled talking, before a shirtless Luka opens the door. “Hey, Rasmus. Do you need something?”

Behind the Croatian, a person on the bed tilts his head to see the newcomer. Rasmus recognizes Miky, sprawled out on top of the blankets. “Who is it?”

“It’s Rasmus!” Perkz calls, looking over his shoulder. Miky calls a greeting at him and Rasmus raises his hand, waving awkwardly in response. When Perkz’ eyes refocus on him, the feeling that he isn’t exactly welcome at the moment strengthens. He swallows. “I’m sorry to bother you”, he stammers glancing from Luka’s bared chest to Miky, staring at him from behind the ADC. “I didn’t know you were, ehm, doing things.”

Luka’s eyebrows plummet into a frown as he studies Rasmus, befuddled. “What?” Behind him Miky sighs audibly, and then his eyes start shining in understanding. It’s almost as if someone turned on a lightbulb inside his head. “Oh, no! It’s not like that at all”, he corrects, laughing. “I just got out of the shower.”

“Okay”, Rasmus answers. He goes for a genuine smile, but judging by the look in Luka’s eyes he misses his target by a mile. In a moment he lets it drop, nervously tapping with two fingers on his wrist.

Luka’s smile doesn’t return, he notes with a pang of sorrow. Instead he gets that understanding look, the one he always fights to preserve after particularly hard losses. It’s like his entire demeanor changes in one moment to the other; he goes from joyously brotherlike to the caring team captain that’s been the glue to their construction the past years. With a step aside, he opens up some space for Rasmus to enter. “Do you want to come in?”

Rasmus nods.

Whether it’s because he’s solely craving company or comfort as well, he isn’t sure. All he knows, all that matters right now is that his feet brought him here and, after a long day of being strong on his own, Rasmus wants to let others be the deciding factor of his mood. Not himself, not.. him. Broxah. 

Miky perks up as soon as Rasmus walks in, and thank god he is wearing a shirt. Even if it doesn’t belong to him, it does do wonders for Rasmus’ mind, so he doesn’t feel like he’s intruding despite what his friends might try to tell him. “How’s my favorite midlaner doing?” the support asks with a warm, playful smile.

“Ouch, Miky. I thought I am your all-time favorite?” Luka pouts at him from across the room, where he’s putting on a shirt now as well.

“Ah, shut your mouth, Lu”, Miky says with a grin. “You know I love you.” After glancing at a pouting Luka for just a bit longer, his warm eyes find Rasmus’ and his smile softens. He looks on intently until Rasmus realizes that yes, the question was meant for him. 

Flashing a mellow smile, Rasmus searches his mind for an acceptable, casual answer. As he finds himself running out of actual good options, his brain defaults to interview mode- just something simple, something nice that sounds good. Now there’s only the challenge of making it sound genuine. “It’s uh, good to be back on the stage, playing big games and all”, he says and immediately wants to hit himself for how stupid that sounds. 

Miky arches a brow but Luka doesn’t seem to notice the hollowness of his words as he plops down on the bed in between Miky and him. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “It is”, he agrees with a grin, his hand reaching up to ruffle Rasmus’ hair. “It would be a lot better if the crowds could be here too though, you know? I miss them cheering for me”, he adds with a lopsided grin. 

Rasmus nods in understanding just as Miky starts laughing. “Of course you would, you egomaniac.”

“Hey!” Luka protests. “I’m not! You are so mean today Miky, I swear-” 

“Yes you are”, Miky interrupts, now full out laughing. “You always act like you’re ashamed, but I know you love it when those fangirls fawn over you. _Ohh Perkz!_ ” he starts, fanning his face with one hand. “ _Meeting you feels like floating in a puddle of love. I dream about you every night, please sign this expensive bra I bought just to impress you!_ ”

The support lets himself fall back onto the bed dramatically, hand to his forehead. “Oh, you”, Perkz grumbles playfully, pulling Miky back up and poking at his side. The support makes an indignant face at that, but one moment of energized silence later they’re both laughing, filling up the room with happiness.

Rasmus can’t stifle his laughter any longer. He joins them in their giddy chorus and though his heart doesn’t start feeling any lighter, it’s great to at least have a somewhat lighter mood. Even if it’s only for a moment. “If only someone would’ve told me two years ago I’d end up with some complete idiots for teammates”, he manages eventually.

“You’re calling me an idiot?” Luka asks indignantly, remnants of his stupidly wide grin still drawing the corners of his mouth upwards. “I’m not an idiot. Miky knows, right?” He fixes his gaze on the support, who furrows his brow as he mockingly mulls it over. 

“Well”, he says eventually, “I think Rasmus is right. You’re all pretty big idiots.”

“But he called you an idiot too!”

“What?” Miky squawks, cranking his head to glare accusingly at Rasmus. The latter meets his stare with an uncomfortable smile but is determined to be the last one to look away. Luka giggles pridefully as their eyes continue to clash, though both participants make sure to assure the other with hints of smiles that it’s all in good spirits. Eventually the Slovenian shakes his head, resigning himself to his fate. “Rasmus, you’re inting, man.”

“Aww. But he does still love us, don’t you Rasmus?” Luka asks jokingly, his eyes big and pleading, but the effect undeniably dimmed by his playful and confident air. 

Rasmus nods eagerly. “Of course I do! The best part of joining G2 was getting to know you guys better, to be honest. The winning is fun and all, but even if we lose we’re here for each other. That’s really great too, that we can all be there for our team when someone’s in trouble or something, and that you guys are here for me too, no matter what happens. Like now, you know? With- with him”, he says, voice dying out towards the end as he swallows the name he just doesn’t want to say right now. Not when they were just having a great time, laughing and joking together. He just didn’t want to ruin the mood, but he can feel the rush of blood to his head and though it’s a little hard to hear for just a second, his friends’ faces speak volumes.

All banter is forgotten momentarily as both their faces soften and though Rasmus normally hates sympathy, he’s really not thinking about that enough to care. His mind is clogging up so quickly as the things he’s been trying to process – and forget, too – pass before his eyes and settle back into the front of his mind space, making his head hurt with the added pressure. 

“It’s ok Rasmus, we know. You don’t have to push your feelings away”, Miky murmurs as he moves a cold hand to rub circles on his back. 

“Yeah, we’re always here”, Luka reassures him firmly. He quickly moves to Rasmus’ other side, lightly pressing their shoulders together. 

Miky scoots closer, closing the space between them and now Rasmus is completely surrounded by warmth. The presence of his friends, Luka’s cologne, Miky’s soft, occasional sighs and all of their sweet words flood Rasmus’ senses, making him sigh shakily as he tries to fight the tears that are welling up so eagerly now.

“Ohh, Ras”, Miky murmurs as he wipes a tear away. “C’mere.”  
The final bits of distance are closed rapidly as he’s enveloped from both sides in a hug. Luka’s strong arms wrap themselves securely around his shoulders. He rests one hand reassuringly on his neck and pulls him closer to his own chest with the other. Miky snakes a hand around his waist and continues to cup his jaw with the other, gently wiping the tears from his cheek. 

They hold him tighter than Rasmus is used to, almost as if they’re afraid to lose him. If his throat were able to produce something other than sobs, he might’ve tried to convince them otherwise- but they deserve the truth. And that truth, as ugly as it is, is that even as he’s wrapped up in his teammates’ love and warmth, his heart can’t help but to ache for someone else’s. His mind can’t stop replaying their last conversation, the sad but determined look in _his_ eyes as he dismissed him the only thing Rasmus can see. 

And Rasmus cries. He sobs over losing a friend, so long ago now, and then losing him again as the one he loves. He cries over the void that it’s left in his mind, the black hole that is his grief and seems to suck in all happiness and light that should define this time of his life. He cries over his broken heart, because he has rebuilt it time after time using his love for _him_ as a foundation- and ten days ago all of that shattered. And because they can’t do anything else to help their poor, hurting midlaner mend his heart, Miky and Luka hold him, squeezing their eyes shut just so they won’t have to see him like this- they’ve always known him as the positive, impossible-to-beat-down person he used to be. Maybe they’re clinging to that version of him, or maybe they’re just seeing him as he is now, raw with grief and sadness, completely defenseless and at the lowest point he’s reached in years. Regardless, they stay with him. They never leave his side. 

Eventually Rasmus’ sobs start to ebb. He’s cried and cried and cried and now his body is exhausted and his head feels like it’s going to explode and his eyes are starting to fall closed, and he sighs unsteadily. When Luka tells him he’s sleeping here, he’s too tired to protest that.

The ADC lets him lean against his chest as Miky picks out some shorts and a shirt for him to sleep in, and then they coax Rasmus into the bathroom to change while they change into pajama’s as well. There’s only one king-sized bed in the room as Miky and Luka resolutely refuse to spend a night apart- even if it’s just to separate beds between the same walls. They tuck Rasmus in and he finds himself balancing on the edge of sleep and wakefulness before they even join him, both cuddling up against him. He’s not used to sleeping like this, but his mind is too far gone to care at this point and so is Rasmus. Within seconds his breathing starts growing steadier and his body finally stills. 

Luka and Miky stay with him the entire night. Even though neither of them get much sleep, if any at all, they both agree it’s worth every last second of their time just to see Rasmus smile again, like he does when he wakes, still surrounded by their warmth. It’s a mellow, tired one: but it’s a smile nonetheless and Miky smiles sweetly at him as Luka ruffles his hair. 

Rasmus is lonely. Sure, he’s hurting.

But he’s not alone. He has his teammates, his friends, right here. And they’ll tell him everything’s okay and they’ll wipe his tears and make him breakfast when eating is the last thing he wants to do. Through thick and thin, they’re by his side.

They stay with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are really appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
